A Double Pointed Murder by Ann Yost

Author:Ann Yost [Yost, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947833548
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2019-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

An hour later I carried four buckets of white, red and yellow carnations into the work room of Sofi’s shop then I dug the pipe cleaners out of my jacket pocket and laid them on the plastic-covered work table.

Sofi’s thick, straight wheat-colored hair was twisted into a knot on top of her head and she wore a pale green cobbler’s apron over her sweatshirt and jeans. Her short, powerful fingers pulled the bunches apart and stripped the leaves. There were still dark crescents under her eyes but her cheeks were pink and she was back to her normal business-like self.

“You’d better let me spray paint the carnations,” I said. “You shouldn’t inhale the fumes.”

“Fine.” She had spread newspapers on her work table and now she laid the stripped stems on it “side by each,” as Pops would say, like prisoners positioned before a firing squad.

I thought, not for the first time, how much being a shop owner suited Sofi and how she’d never have taken the plunge if it hadn’t been for the divorce. She’d worked for years as an assistant to Lauri Hyypio who had owned the flower shop. Lauri had been ready to sell two years ago and Sofi, newly divorced, had gotten a loan from Miner’s Bank to buy the place. She’d tightened up Lauri’s somewhat lackadaisical business practices and she’d diversified by offering her customers not only floral arrangements but mouth-watering fudge. Fudge had been a natural addition. Sofi had always loved experimenting in the kitchen and the fudge making gave her a natural outlet for her creativity. In addition to seasonal favorites like eggnog and peppermint, she’d experimented with apple, pineapple and lingonberry fudge, all of which sound gag-inducing, but were actually delicious.

“I’ve lost four pounds,” she said.

I hid a smile. Even in the midst of a crisis such as the threat of a murder charge, she was aware of the numbers on her scale. And I knew, very well, that she was not alone in that.

“Morning sickness?” She nodded.

“And I’m doing a land rush business. There’s nothing like a scandal to bring out the shoppers.” She nodded toward the curtain that leads to the front of the shop. “I borrowed Astrid Laplander from Ronja since Charlie’s out of town.” Astrid is the eldest of five daughters all of whom help out at the family owned Copper Kettle Gift Shop. “She can’t cut an even square to save her life but she’s good at the cash register.”

“What are people saying about the murder?”

She laughed.

“They’re a lot more interested in What’s in Your Attic? Lots of talk about whose treasures are the most valuable and which of the locals will be spotted by some talent scout and whisked off to Hollywood.” She shot me an ironic look. “Who says Finns don’t have any imagination?”

“It gives people something to get excited about.”

She shook her head. “I predict a lot of disappointment. Clara Tenhunen plans to bring that blue-and-white pitcher of hers because it looks like Dresden china.

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